


That Carpet Felt Awful

by honeyandhibiscus



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bullying, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Other, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25986529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyandhibiscus/pseuds/honeyandhibiscus
Summary: This is a vent piece about something I went through in middle school. Please be kind, this is active trauma for me.
Kudos: 2





	That Carpet Felt Awful

Not to be dramatic or anything, and as dramatic as it sounds, right now I feel like I will never forget how that carpet felt, how scratchy it was, how you could just feel how cheap it was under your hands as the itchy material they used to make it digs into your hands. I know it’s cheesy, please just hear me out; Imagine This: You’re in middle school, the worst fucking place you could be at any stage of your life. It’s hell in middle school. You’re 13 years old, you’re gay, you haven’t eaten or drank anything since dinner last night, your arms already sting so badly from what you did to them last night and you can feel some of the scabs ripping back open, blood soaking into your sweatshirt as you’re sitting on the floor, your hands firmly on the ground behind you and your arms straight as can be keep you from falling backwards, back against the carpet, eyes to the ceiling. Your ripped skinny jeans and converse offer absolutely no help in getting back up gracefully or quickly, so you sit there, blood dripping from your nose slowly, your face stuck in a shocked expression, your eye throbbing, you can feel the blood vessels popping with each second that passes. Your breath is labored, the goons standing over you are smiling. Your ears start to ring, the adrenaline from just a minute ago is still coursing through your veins. The words, “I’m sorry your dad left but yelling slurs at me all day won’t make him come back” are still hanging off your lips. You didn’t even know his dad left, you were just mad and so exhausted and you said the first thing that would make you feel better. Did you know that would get you beat up on a ramp? No, but I mean, you had to have known that was a possibility. They’re laughing at you now, they’re making fun of you for saying anything, mocking the shock and pain on your face. The leader kicks you for good measure before they all walk off. It wasn’t hard, it startled you more than anything. You sit up better and start crying. You wait for it to be 3:30 so you can walk home without running into anyone. You think of an excuse for your mom. You stand up from the carpeted ramp, grab your backpack, and start your walk home, hoping mom won’t be too mad at you today for not washing the dishes last night.


End file.
